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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824473">I Think There's A Flaw in My Code (These Voices Won't Leave Me Alone)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/pseuds/ScatteredStarlight'>ScatteredStarlight (Shaderose)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alive Tony Stark, Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), But hes still dead in the fake world, Coma, Confusion, Dreams vs. Reality, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Fuck Beck, Gen, Hallucinations, Happy Ending, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Summaries, Illusions, Illusions in an illusion of illusions, In the Real World, Inception type of deal, It happens but it also doesnt, It is but it isnt, Its the same as the above tags for ffh, Manipulative Quentin Beck, May Parker (Spider-Man) &amp; Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE TONY, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Quentin Beck Being a Jerk, Spider-Man Far From Home Compliant, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Lives, Villain Quentin Beck, Whump, You'll see what I mean, hinted - Freeform, ish?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:48:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824473</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/pseuds/ScatteredStarlight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ever since Peter's come back, he's felt something... off.</p><p>He can't get the lingering feeling to go away.</p><p>It kind of feels like his spidey sense, but on steroids, this itch of a bug crawling under his skin that he can't seem to get rid of no matter how hard he tries, can't seem to kill no matter how much he picks and smacks and claws. Its something, burning in the back of his mind, a box full of goodies that is just out of his reach, just enough for only his fingertips to brush, and it leaves him feeling frustrated, overwhelmed, confused.</p><p>Because what could it be?</p><p>What was he <em>forgetting?"</em></p><p>~~</p><p>Peter struggles to adjust after the blip. When he starts getting dreams and hallucinations, of voices and of people he knows are dead, and when his spidey senses starts to flair up continuously, he starts to wonder if not everything is as it seems.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>May Parker (Spider-Man) &amp; Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) &amp; Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark, Michelle Jones &amp; Ned Leeds &amp; Peter Parker, Michelle Jones &amp; Peter Parker, Ned Leeds &amp; Peter Parker, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark, Quentin Beck &amp; Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>156</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Think There's A Flaw in My Code (These Voices Won't Leave Me Alone)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi hi!!<br/>I came up with the idea for this fic in a dream, and just knew I had to write it!! Sorry if it's a little confusing and all over the place, though, I tried to make it as cohesive and understandable as possible 😅</p><p>Special thanks to ProsperDemeter, for helping me take my dream into a workable fic idea, and to RandyQueen for keeping up my excitement as I sent snippets into the discord chat lmaooo<br/>I love you both bunches 🥰🥰</p><p>With that being said, I hope you all enjoy!! 💗💗</p><p>(Title is from the song Gasoline by Halsey)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ever since Peter's come back, he's felt something... off.</p><p>Everyone would whisper and murmur to him that it'll just take time. To come back completely, to adjust.</p><p>Hell, he was even convinced for a while.</p><p>That it was the grief, overwhelming and churning like a black hole slowly sucking him towards its center, ramping up to crush him any chance it gets. That it was his molecules, getting put back together wrong <em>just </em>slightly, to make his brain chemistry wonky and make this big cloud of <em>something </em>hang over his head. That it was just... the <em>trauma, </em>of being murdered, slaughtered by an alien mad titan dead set on ruling the universe, and coming back to fight in the biggest battle in Earth's history, only for his <em>third father figure</em> to die, right in front of his eyes, practically in his arms. The agony of hearing his heart slow to a stop, and wishing, for a second, that it was <em>him</em> again.</p><p>But he can't...</p><p>He can't get the lingering feeling to go away.</p><p>It kind of feels like his spidey sense, but on steroids, this itch of a bug crawling under his skin that he can't seem to get rid of no matter how hard he tries, can't seem to kill no matter how much he picks and smacks and claws. Its <em>something, </em>burning in the back of his mind, a box full of goodies that is <em>just</em> out of his reach, just enough for only his fingertips to brush, and it leaves him feeling frustrated, overwhelmed, <em>confused</em>.</p><p>Because what could it <em>be?</em></p><p>What was he <em>f</em><em>orgetting?</em></p><p>Some days he could ignore it, push it to the back of his mind and focus on the <em>here</em> and the <em>now</em>. The woes of redoing junior year even though he <em>clearly </em>remembers doing midterms and getting ready for finals like it was yesterday. The excitement of hanging out with Ned on the weekends again (even if theres a higher intensity to it, now that they've literally died and come back, wanting to savor everyone moment that they can). The nerves of texting MJ whenever he can and slowly realizing the swells in his chest from their budding friendship was turning into cocoons of butterflies, of a crush growing in his mind. The annoyances of Flash still bothering him, even after everything (even if he is <em>slightly</em> thankful that at least something is the same). The exhaustion of waking up at 6am, going through an entire day of school only to do an abundance of homework afterwards. The normal, boring things he <em>should</em> be focusing on, as a sixteen-almost-seventeen year old boy.</p><p>But, other days...</p><p>"<em>Peter!"</em></p><p>He shoots up in his bed, swinging his legs over the side and jumping from the higher up mattress, the cold from the laminate floor seeping into his toes as he rushes out of the door, fumbling with the knob for a while, <em>too long,</em> before he finally gets it open. "May? May?!?"</p><p>"Peter?" He hears the sharp contrast in her voice, the way she went from screaming for him with agony dripping from her voice, to the quiet confusion, but it doesn't register until he quite literally runs into her, sending her stumbling backwards to catch herself, and then, him. "Woah! Pete, hey, woah-" He pulls back out of her arms quickly, blinking up at her with owlish eyes, seeing her slightly wrinkled face, the few strands of gray in the front of her hair, the full blown bewilderment and shock in her eyes, the downturn to her lips, '<em>she seems fine, she seems okay, but-</em>', before glancing around quickly, at the few beige fabric chairs in the living room sat across from the TV, at the smaller kitchen with the dark wood cabinets slightly on an angle, off kilter, all of it casted in a light blue glow from the early morning sky. "Whats going on?"</p><p>At the urgency in her tone, he flickers back to her, to her haphazard scrubs and her hair pulled back into a messy bun, ready for work, at the coffee cup she had had to raise into the air to keep safe from spillage, at the <em>fear </em>creeping onto her features. He shakes himself internally, scanning the room as he croaks, voice still rough from sleep, "You- are you okay? You called for me, in-in this weird tone-"</p><p>"Called for you?" She echoes, lithe eyebrows furrowing, before she smiles, her face lighting up with a mirth Peter doesnt understand. "Peter, you still have ten minutes to be up, why would I call for you?"</p><p>"I don't-" He swallows, hoping the saliva will help ease his burning throat, his rushing heart, the blood and adrenaline still pumping through his veins. "I don't know."</p><p>She hums, running a hand through his muzzled, still greasy hair, curling a few strands behind his ear before running her fingers over his jaw, lightly holding onto his cheek. "You probably just had a nightmare, Peter."</p><p>Her words are spoken softly, whispered like a hush of a lullaby, a promise of comfort and security, but it rattles Peter to his core, makes something in him burn and char with some misplaced anger, some misspoken resentment. Because it <em>wasn't </em>a nightmare, he heard it, clear as day-</p><p>But <em>did</em> he? He tries to retrace his steps, from when he woke up to here, but its all fuzzy, now. He ran here, and spoke to May, and... but he could've sworn...</p><p>His head is being pushed lightly, then, away from May, and Peter shakes out of her grip to give her a quizzitive look as she snorts. "Go take a shower, hm? You kinda stink."</p><p>He snorts too, then, pushing her away as she laughs, the way she always does when she teases him, with her tongue stuck out between her teeth, in a light snicker. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, May."</p><p>It must've been a nightmare. Must've been.</p><p>...</p><p>...<em>but-</em></p><p>He groans, lowering his face until its under the stream again, watching the way the water slips from the clumps and strands of his hair onto the plastic of the floor of the shower. He wishes he could <em>let it go</em>, be like Elsa with her magic ice powers, but stuck with spider powers instead.</p><p><em>But</em>, he's been having more and more moments like this, lately.</p><p>Its usually in dreams. At first, he couldn't remember his dreams at all, couldn't remember anything from the moment he shut his eyes in the darkness to the moment he reopened them in the light (which was weird upon itself, to be honest, he used to be a really light sleeper, especially after the spider bite when he could hear every car tire and every voice in a miles radius). But lately, he'll remember... pieces. Pieces of what he thought were dreams, at first. Dreams created from his grief stricken mind to recreate what he had lost. Dreams of May, reading a book in a chair. Dreams of people he doesn't recognize chatting in front of him. Dreams of <em>Tony,</em> sitting on a bed beside him, holding his hand. They're so vivid, yet blurry, moments carved from a time Peter feels like he can remember, but <em>knows</em> that he doesn't, because how could he? That's never happened before.</p><p>Today was the first time he ever heard a voice. Today was the first time it had ever breached into the real world.</p><p>It makes his stomach churn, suddenly and harshly, like a cramp. There's so many questions he has, so many thoughts that wizz by his head too fast for him to comprehend, so many moments that he knows he should just wave off but can't seem to, no matter how hard he tries.</p><p>And God, does he try.</p><p>He tries, when he finally gets out of the shower, gets dressed, and kisses May's cheek as a goodbye before rushing off to the train station, to make his way to school. He does, when he meets up with Ned just outside the school, and does their signature hand shake, chatting and laughing along with him as if everything is normal. As if nothing happened at all. He does, when he goes from class to class, trying to pay attention but getting bored with the material because he <em>already knows all of this</em>, as does most of the class (the ones that got blipped, anyways). He does, when he comes home to an empty house and cooks himself something, leaving some out for May whenever she gets home. He does, when he goes to bed that night, with another press to the cheek from May when she stumbles home from her twelve hour shift, looking and seeming exhausted, on an autopilot as she eats what he left out and shuffles off to bed. He does, when he closes his eyes into darkness, and reopens them to light, the cycle continuing again.</p><p>He tries, so so hard, but the feelings just keep creeping up on him, and Peter feels like an antelope, out in the middle of an open field, watching warily into the tall grass knowing, <em>knowing </em>something is there, <em>knowing</em> something is about to strike, but not knowing what it is, <em>where</em> it is, or <em>how</em> it will do so.</p><p>But he pushes through. Moves on, or tries to.</p><p>Until the summer comes around.</p><p><em>"Let's do a summer trip, to keep their minds off of the fact that they died!"</em>, Midtown School of Technology says, and Peter...</p><p>Realistically, logically, it's a good plan. It'll keep the kids busy, help them move on and enjoy themselves, help them forget.</p><p>He just... can't help but to feel like this is a terrible, terrible idea.</p><p>He doesn't know why. But he doesn't know anything, anymore, so what's new?</p><p>He brings it up to May, one day, his worries and concerns. She can see it on his face, he thinks, the darkness plaguing him on any other day, <em>every day</em>, especially lately with the trip, but she just gives him that smile she always gives him, the way her lips pull up naturally, soft and gentle, motherly in a way Peter never thought he'd see on her, years ago, but is natural to him now, and soothes him by murmuring that it's okay, it'll be okay, it'll be <em>good</em> for him, to get out and away from the chaos that is New York right now (its been chaos since everyone's come back, with family's moving on from their lost ones only for them to come back, with children losing their families, with people losing their houses, their jobs, their <em>lives</em>. Peter is lucky, all things considered, though he has to laugh everytime he thinks it. Lucky, Peter Parker. <em>Lucky.</em>)</p><p>He tries to let the words sink in. Tries to let them settle, as she gives him a heavy hug goodbye and pleads for him to call whenever possible onto his temple. Tries, as he boards the plane, and ends up next to Mr. Harrington after Ned's stunt to try and get him next to MJ (thats his fault though, he's the one that begged him to try. Sorry, Ned!) Tries, as he closes his eyes and breathes heavily through the lift off, trying not to think of crashing planes and pictures of parents. Tries, as he makes a fool of himself, cleaning the bathroom for MJ only to find <em>Brad </em>there instead (God he hates that guy. Peter doesn't tend to hate <em>a</em><em>nybody,</em> but there's something about Brad that just gets under his skin. He tries not to think about it too much). Tries, as he sleeps through the rest of the flight (and the landing, surpringly), only for Mr. Harrington to shake him awake, and tell them in a giddy voice that "We're here, everyone!"</p><p>
  <em>Yay.</em>
</p><p>As soon as he steps off the plane, and steps foot onto the soil of Venice, Italy, Peter already knows <em>something</em> is wrong. He doesn't know what, yet, can't seem to figure it out as he glances around and sees nothing out of the ordinary, but his spidey sense (or his "Peter Tingle" as May <em>loves </em>to tease him about) thrums in his ears, scratches at his neck in a warning.</p><p>But, his sense has been going off for <em>months</em> now, about <em>nothing.</em> Its nothing.</p><p><em>'Go away,'</em> He tells it, pushing at the back of his mind, but it just pushes back. <em>'Go away!'</em></p><p>Then, Ned is walking towards him, with a bright smile to match the sun and a bucket hat to block it from his eyes, and the thought is forgotten.</p><p>At least, until they're in the streets, walking along and minding their business, when it shoots through the roof again.</p><p>"Knock it off!" He grits through his teeth, and when Ned gives him a look, one eyebrow raised and his eyes narrowed slightly, Peter leans in closer and whispers, glancing around to make sure nobody hears. "My sense has been going crazy since we got here, dude. I think something's going on."</p><p>Ned just rolls his eyes at him. "Nothings going on, Peter, we're in Venice!"</p><p>"Yeah, I <em>know, Ned</em>," He scoffs incredulously at Ned's quick dismissal, giving him a look with wide eyes, hoping to portray just how <em>serious</em> he is about this. "But we were in New York City when a giant alien spaceship came out of the sky and snapped half of us out of the universe! I don't really think the place matters too much."</p><p>Maybe it was a little harsh, but he couldn't help the faint irritation growing in his tone, especially when the buzz on his neck keeps growing and growing like a hive of bees. When Ned sighs, tired and annoyed, laced with a heaviness Peter is all too familiar with, he realizes he may have gone a little too far.</p><p>"Come on, Peter! Can't you just-" His friend shrugs, glancing down at the ground as they step along the path, his bright blue hat blocking his face when Peter glances over. "Can't you just enjoy this trip? Just for once?"</p><p>Peter freezes, stopping and ignoring the complaints of the people around him that he even can't understand outside of the tone, and gives Ned his full attention. Sees the genuine pain in his eyes, and feels a knife stab into his heart. He didn't mean to be such a... Debby downer all the time, he just- he feels-</p><p>"I'm sorry." He murmurs honestly, and starts walking again, shoulders hushed. "I didn't mean to."</p><p>"I know, don't worry." Ned accepts immediately, grin back in place as he pats him on the back, and Peter can't help but to smile back, his energy infectious. God he loves how forgiving Ned is, its one of the many, many reasons why he loves him. "Hey, I'm gonna go with Betty for a bit, okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah of course! Have fun!" He calls as Ned runs off towards his girlfriend, waving him goodbye before he stifles a sigh, and keeps walking. He stares into the lagoon, at the canals full of crystal clear, bright blue water, and rubs at the back of his neck, trying to ease the rumble. He doesn't know why he's so on guard. He's safe. It's okay. He's safe.</p><p>He should be enjoying this, the trip, the place, the <em>views.</em></p><p>
  <em>Why is he not enjoying this?</em>
</p><p>"Hey, Loser," The words come out of nowhere, seemingly, not coming from one specific direction but feeling like it came from all around him, making him jump and glance around like a maniac, trying to pinpoint where MJ (it was very clearly MJ, nobody else calls him loser in that tone, nobody else sounds as beautiful as she does) was, and ask why she sounds so... <em>upset.</em> Melancholic, almost.</p><p>And then- "Boh."</p><p>He flinches again, and pivots on the spot to face MJ, stood behind him and glancing at him with a slight grin, head tilted as if in confusion, mostly likely at the way he turned around. The way he probably looks pretty frazzled, right now.</p><p>"B-boh?" He tries to play off, pushing his shaking hands behind his back and hoping she can't hear his hammering heart.</p><p>She just looks him over for a few moments, looking him up and down, before shrugging. "<em>Nice.</em>"</p><p>And then she's walking away. And Peter is rushing after her, stepping in line with her as he asks quietly, bashfully, "Wha- what's boh?"</p><p>"It can be a lot of things." She answers without glancing at him twice, ominously, as per usual. "'I don't know, no, I don't care'..."</p><p>Peter furrows his eyebrows, glancing down at the cobblestone road below him, seeing a few rocks chipped in different places, most being in pristine condition even after all these years. "So, what did- what did you mean, when you said that earlier...?"</p><p>She looks to him, then, and only raises an eyebrow. "What did <em>you</em> mean, when you said it?" He gapes, and she laughs, her full bellied laugh that she only does occasionally, very very rarely, that starts with a snort, her head bowed, and ends in silent, thrown back laughter, shoulders shaking and eyes squeezes shut, her darker skin shining underneath the bright summer skies and making her look ethereal, making Peter lose his breath even as he tries to chuckle along, too, making it come out as a weird half-wheeze. "I did it to see your reaction, dumbass." She offers after her shaking shoulders ease, chuckles still spilling slightly from her upturned lips.</p><p>Peter forms his mouth into an "oh", and then stares out into the horizon, again, trying to ease the burning thats growing on his ear tips, on his cheeks. That makes sense. That sounds like MJ. "Is that why you called my name, before, too?"</p><p>She straightens, then, suddenly, giving him a weird look as they start to walk again. "I didn't call your name before." He starts to speak back up, again, stomach sharply swirling and senses humming, but she cuts him off with the wave of her hand. "Wait, look!" She pulls the camera from her chest and holds it in front of her eyes, kneeling down to take a picture of the crabs swarming up onto the shore.</p><p>"Woah, thats- weird-"</p><p>Weird. Right.</p><p>It was <em>weird </em>for about two seconds, before his senses screamed and a giant water monster came to life, splashing giant waves everywhere and creating a scene.</p><p>Great. Good. Awesome. Just what he needed.</p><p>He shoos MJ away quickly, who goes without question, thankfully, before helping Ned and Betty out of their gondola and sends them running too. He then grabs his webshooters out of his watch (thank god Tony told him to put the tech there, just in case), takes a deep breath (god he <em>really </em>doesn't wanna do this, he's so so <em>tired</em>), and gets to work.</p><p>Turns out, webs don't work on water. Go figure.</p><p>Also turns out that there's a new avenger around that he doesn't know about, who's green and shoots beams and is... honestly kind of badass, not gonna lie, but he <em>doesn't know who he is</em>, and his senses almost become <em>overwhelming </em>once he shows up, even if he does end up saving the day, in the end. Not much Spider-Man can do against a random water monster, especially when Spider-Man <em>t</em><em>echnically </em>isn't really here.</p><p>Everything happens so quickly after that.</p><p>He goes back to the group, disgruntled and off kilter, Mr. Harrington, Ned, and MJ are happy to see he's okay, everyone else is ignoring his existence as usual. He calls May to tell her he's fine, and calm down her worries. Then <em>Nick Fury</em> shows up out of nowhere, and drags his ass away for a bit to give him some glasses that apparently Tony left for him? That he didn't know about until right now? Even though Tony's been dead for <em>months?</em></p><p>And then.</p><p>Then, he meets Quentin Beck. Well, <em>re</em> meets him anyways. Apparently mid battle isn't the best way to meet someone, who knew? (Peter did, having done it way, way too many times before. In the spaceship, at the battle... way, <em>way too many times.</em>)</p><p>And things start to get <em>really </em>weird. Weirder than normal for Peter. Which is <em>weird</em> weird.</p><p>For one, as soon as Quentin turns around and gives him a smile, gentle, innocent, seeming nice, seeming <em>kind</em>, everything in Peter body, his bones and his blood and <em>every fiber of his being</em> is telling him to <em>run</em>. Run away, as far as you can, and never look back. For seemingly no reason.</p><p>Secondly, he gives him this speech about his universe and his family (he comes from a different <em>universe,</em> which blows Peter's mind across the stratosphere),  which sounds <em>way</em> too much like the dramatic soap operas Aunt May watches all the time. But, <em>Nick Fury and Agent Maria Hill</em> don't bat an eye at it, so why should he, you know?</p><p>For three, apparently they're in Avatar the Last Airbender now? And have to fight the Fire Nation in order to Save the Land or whatever? (<em>'Earth, Water, Fire, Air'</em> He has to stop himself from laughing as Quentin explains it all, knowing it was Not the Time). But again, the others don't say anything against it, so he guesses its fine? And real?</p><p>He's just a kid. What does he know?</p><p>And either way, he just wants to get this over with so he can go back to his summer vacation again, enjoy himself like Ned said. Stay low to the ground.</p><p>At least Tony would be proud.</p><p>So, his friends end up in Prague. Peter ends up almost killing Brad by accident on the bus ride over (the EDITH glasses are Dangerous, good to note). He hits Flash too, by accident, and feels slightly guilty for that one. He gets the others to go to an Opera show, and escapes out the back to go fight Te Kā.</p><p>On the way, he has another... <em>moment.</em></p><p>He's walking down a side street, head bowed and focused, like a man on a mission (he <em>was</em> one, to be fair. He had to get in place, before Fury found him and dragged him there himself), but then he <em>wasnt. </em>Wasnt focused, wasn't moving, anymore. Was, instead, freezing on the spot, ignoring the yells of orders in his ear as he spots the mural, painted perfectly onto this random nook of the old brick wall, a sketched out helmet and, in the middle, Tony's face. Just below it sits one candle, with wax dripping onto stone and the flame flickering in the wind.</p><p>They are all over New York, <em>murals </em>just like this one. Memorials. He doesn't know why this one draws his attention (he does know why it makes his heart sick and make him nauseous, though. <em>That </em>feeling is familiar by now, an old friend).</p><p>At least, until it <em>moves.</em></p><p>The mask fades off as Tony's face becomes <em>so real</em> for a moment, crystal clear, with the same purpleish blue bags under his eyes, the same wrinkles next to his mouth, the same furrowed eyebrows, one slightly higher than the other, the same mocha gaze, swirling with emotions Peter still had trouble reading, even after all this time. He looks upset, frustrated, at first, but then his gaze widens, his mouth drops, and then-</p><p>"Pete, hey, can you hear me?"</p><p>He flinches back, the sound so familiar, so sudden, so <em>real</em>, blinks, and it's gone. Whatever it was, its <em>gone</em>, replaced again with paint on brick, with a stoic look and the mask of a hero most only knew from afar. He gasps in a shaky breath, blinking repeatedly at the mural and scanning it over and over to find out what happened, <em>what was that? That was so real, so real-</em></p><p>Until Nick Fury's screams can be heard again over the blood rushing in his ears, and he jumps back into reality, into the motions, rushing back towards his post even as his brain struggles to catch up, lagging behind like one of those gigantic, white, old computers from the 90s.</p><p>Turns out, webs <em>also</em> don't work on <em>literal lava</em>. You'd think he'd have learned his lesson.</p><p>They fight the monster, said monster gets too big, Mysterio "sacrifices" himself, but survives? Somehow? (Again with the soap opera drama, jeez). Nick Fury yells at him again (rightfully so, this time), Quentin Beck drags him off to get drinks, acting as if he wasn't hurt at all (even though he made a Big Deal out of his spectacular move at the end), and Peter <em>stupidly, selfishly</em> gives him the glasses.</p><p>The glasses that Tony gave him. <em>Him</em>, specifically. The <em>l</em><em>ast </em>gift he ever got from the older man, and he just... gave it away.</p><p>But he was <em>so tired.</em> He felt it drip from his limps like rain, felt it soak into his bones and leave a chill in his body almost like hypothermia, a grip that won't let go, that he can't shake. He's so unbelievably exhausted, of the superhero life, of being the Next Tony Stark, of- of <em>responsibility.</em> Its selfish, so so selfish, but he's <em>sixteen.</em> He's lost <em>four family members</em> in his <em>sixteen years of life, </em>two of which were within <em>two years</em> of each other (seven years, technically, but <em>whatever</em>) and he just-</p><p>He just wanted to be a kid again. Just for a moment.</p><p>Especially- especially after-</p><p>But God, that was too much to ask for. Too much for Peter Benjamin Parker.</p><p>Nah, his life can never be that easy.</p><p>Turns out, MJ's been watching him a lot. Score.</p><p>...because she thought he was Spider-Man. Not so much of a score.</p><p>...and she saw something fly off during the Lava Monster Battle, picked it up, and come to find out, it's a drone, displayed the wind monster, and Beck is a bad guy and <em>its all illusions that he created</em> and-</p><p>Oh God.</p><p>Oh he really fucked up.</p><p>Definitely <em>not</em> a score.</p><p>The rest of the day is a blur.</p><p>They rush back to the hotel, so he can change into his suit (<em>Spider Monkey</em>, why couldn't Ned have thought of <em>anything </em>better?), and then he's hopping on top of a train, racing to London to stop Beck from hurting Nick Fury and Agent Hill the same way he hurt him.</p><p>And then he's talking to them, or who he <em>thinks</em> is them, before they disappear into dust right in front of his eyes (so similar<em> way too similar-</em>). Until he's stuck in a whirlwind of illusions that he can't get out of, fighting a giant Mysterio, getting put into his Fishbowl (his snow globe?), getting punched through glass, getting surrounded by <em>himself</em>, so so many versions of himself, all over him, get away, <em>get away</em>-</p><p>Tony- Tony's <em>grave</em>- and- and <em>his rotting corpse-</em></p><p>And then, he has it. He thinks he (well, <em>Fury</em>) beat him. He tells him about his friends knowing, tells him <em>everything</em>, like a <em>dumbass</em>, so so dumb and naive, just like he says, just like <em>Beck</em> says, he got tricked again, oh god, and then-</p><p>Then he's fighting them off again.</p><p>Then he's getting pushed back, back, back.</p><p>Then, its clicks off- there's a <em>train-</em></p><p>He's alive-</p><p>He hurts-</p><p>He <em>aches-</em></p><p>He pulls himself into the cart-</p><p>Collapses-</p><p>Chokes out a breath, trembling and weak, his lungs throbbing, his ribcage screaming-</p><p>And then...</p><p>He inhales loudly, shooting upright, eyes wide, crazed, breathing heavy, <em>where is he, where-</em></p><p>"Woah, woah!" He hears someone beside him, barely, fuzzily over the blood rushing in his ears, before theres hands on his shoulders, his chest, gently pushing him back down onto the bed.</p><p>He's on a bed?</p><p>As the rush of adrenaline slowly starts to slip away, Peter starts to scan the room around him. Starts to notice the pale white walls, the paint slightly chipped and scratched in places, the quick beeping to his right matching the steady thumps of his heart, the needle breaking the skin on his left hand, covered in a clear medical tape, the sharp smell of antiseptic and something so distinctly <em>hospital </em>like, the soft, textured sheets underneath his fingertips. The people surrounding him, looking at him with some semblance of relief, some leaving the room and others staying, <em>watching.</em></p><p>"Hey, you're okay, you're alright." He glances back to the person holding him down gently, stares at the tanner calloused hands, full of scars and moles that he <em>recognizes</em>- he knows those hands, but that doesn't make sense- can't help the way his stomach churns and the heart monitor picks up again as his gaze follows the skin of his arms, the darker hair covering them until they disappear under the cuffed up sleeves of a silky blue tee, the fabric looking expensive and <em>rich</em>- no, no it <em>can't </em>be- as he trails up the the shoulder, the neck, the chin covered in the signature goatee, over the wrinkled grin and the crinkled nose, until he's staring into mocha eyes swirling with emotions he still can't read outside of <em>concern</em> and pure unfiltered <em>relief</em>, and he's- so confused, this doesn't make sense, this-</p><p>Why is this... familiar?</p><p>"Is this heaven?" He croaks out, his voice rough and raw, hoarse, and he immediately collapses into a coughing fit, his throat dry as each word clawed its way out of his mouth. He just gets shushed again, gently, as the older man waves to one of the others in the room (a nurse?) and takes the glass of water she makes, holding it up to Peter's lips and helping him carefully, slowly drink. It feels like an oasis in the middle of a desert, the way the cooling liquid rushes over his sandpaper throat and soothes it quickly, the way it falls into his stomach and helps it settle. But he still feels restless, he still <em>needs to know. </em>So, he demands, asks, pleads, "Is this heaven?"</p><p>And Tony (<em>Tony,</em> Tony who should be dead, who <em>is</em> dead-) <em>chuckles.</em> He chuckles, though there's this scrunch to his face, of confusion, of nerves, of pain in which Peter doesn't understand. "Not heaven, buddy. Just plain old NYC."</p><p>He feels suckerpunched at the nickname, the air in his lungs wheezing out through his teeth as he stares up incredulously at the man who he saw <em>die</em>, heard his <em>heart stop</em>, whos smiling at him the way he used to, running a hand through his bangs to brush them off of his forehead like he did when he was sick, years ago, or hurt on patrol, and-</p><p>He jerks away and Tony- not Tony, <em>you idiot</em>- flinches back. God he's so stupid. How can he be so stupid? "This is an illusion." He laughs hysterically, running his fingers through his curls and tugging, harshly, feeling the pain spark up in his skull. He should feel pain everywhere. He just got <em>hit by a train</em>, but he feels nothing, nothing but the throbbing in his head, the burning behind his eyes. "This is just a hallucination, you aren't here, you're- you're dead and this is just a dream, wake up, wake <em>up!</em>" The pulling fingers turn into hammering fists, smacking against his head, and then Tony is grabbing at his wrists, and Peter is struggling- "<em>No!"</em></p><p>"Peter, hey, hey, kid, <em>l</em><em>isten to me!</em>" Tony struggles to keep a hold of him as Peter flails, until he freezes at his tone, strong and loud and paternal, just the way he used to be <em>before. </em>Before- Tony's eyes are wide and shining in the artifical light, as he stares dead into Peter's own, showing his open fear, his brutal honesty. "I don't know what happened in there, but I promise, this is <em>real.</em> I'm <em>real</em>, I'm <em>here</em>." He emphasizes each of his words, said slow and methodical, careful, like he's speaking to a hungry lion about to pounce. A caged animal about to lash out. He gently pulls his hands up until Peter's fingers are around his wrist, allowing him to feel the gentle, soothing, off beat rhythm of his pulse, firm and pulsing beneath his touch. "I'm <em>here</em>." He repeats, and surprisingly, somehow, Peter believes him.</p><p>His spidey sense is <em>quiet.</em> Not a buzz, not a whisper of danger, not a hum. <em>Silent.</em> For the first time in <em>months.</em></p><p>But... it doesn't make sense.</p><p>"You died," He chokes out, hicks, through the tears now pooling down his cheeks, slipping like rivers down the mountain side, down across the ridges of his cheeks and dripping from his chin. "You <em>died</em>, Tony. This doesnt-"</p><p>
  <em>None of this makes sense.</em>
</p><p>As if he could hear the cry in his head, the way his brain seems to be tearing itself apart trying to figure out where he is, what is happening, how this happened, if it's <em>real</em>, Tony gives him a gentle smile, soft, and places a hand on his cheek, wiping away his tears. "You fought against a villain, a little while ago." He starts, and his voice is just as soft as his smile, just as cautious. "You got hit with something, something <em>s</em><em>trong.</em> We couldn't figure out what, the guy was way gone by the time we got there, by the time we-" His breath catches, and he gets a far away look for a second. "Found you. You were put into a coma-like state, I thought-" He shakes his head, glancing away and blinking rapidly, flexing his left arm, before he looks back and sighs, long, low, and <em>sad. </em>"You were out for over a month, bud."</p><p>"A- a month? I dont-" His thoughts are all over the place, racing and screaming and thrashing in his head, going one way and then the next, one direction and then another, going on this wild goose chase of trying to piece everything together but not being able to because <em>what the fuck?</em> He was in a coma? For a month? Because of a <em>supervillain? </em>But- but he was <em>hit by a train. </em>He was on vacation, in Europe, on a school trip with his friends, not- not in New York, not-</p><p>His gaze wanders behind Tony's shoulder, for a split second, sees the date written out, in black marker against a dirty white board, sees the year <em>2019-</em></p><p>The door hisses open, and Peter flinches harshly. Whimpers.</p><p>God, his head <em>hurts</em>.</p><p>"Peter?!?" The light gasp makes his head shoot up, spotting May in the doorway, with a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. She looks... <em>younger</em>, younger than Peter's seen her look in... in <em>years.</em></p><p>"May-"</p><p>She rushes to his side, throwing her arms around him before he can even blink and pulling him into her chest, squeezing him tight and kissing the top of his head heavily. He doesn't even hesitate to squeeze her back, collapsing into her hold. "Oh baby, you're back, oh my god-"</p><p>"May- May, I'm <em>so confused-"</em> He chokes out, his emotions rising back up again and making him shutter with a sob. She just kisses him again, whispering soothing words into his hair, even as she shakes too. "I dont- don't understand, this doesn't <em>make sense-"</em></p><p>"I know, baby, I know-" She murmurs, rubbing a hand heavily up and down his spine, feeling each bump and bone and ridge. There's a hand on his shoulder, too, bigger and heavier, <em>Tony</em>, squeezing gently. "You've been out for a while, Peter."</p><p>"But I dont remember!" He explodes, suddenly, wiping away the liquid on his face with trembling hands. "I don't remember any of that! I-I was on a trip, to Europe with my school and- and my friends, and there were elemental monsters, and you-" He waves to Tony. "You gave me these-these <em>glasses</em>, EDITH glasses, and then this guy showed up and he helped with the monsters and I gave him the glasses, but then he was evil and he used- used <em>illusion</em> tech and made up the monsters and he- he attacked me, and then I got <em>hit by a train!</em> And woke up here!" His bottom lip trembles as he pants, his body shuttering from exhaustion, his outburst draining him of his energy. What little energy he had to begin with. "I don't- I can't-"</p><p>"And I was dead." Tony murmurs, then, tone monotonous, serious as his eyebrows furrow. Thinking. Putting things together. He could always do it better than Peter could. "In this place?"</p><p>Peter lets out a silent sob, and nods, once. "You saved all of us. The whole- whole <em>universe</em>."</p><p>Tony flinches, slightly, barely noticeable but Peter could tell, Peter could <em>always</em> tell, and May pulls him a little closer, letting him lean against her again, still soothing him silently. "Thanos?" He asks, quietly, and his face falls as Peter nods, squeezing his eyes closed. The hand on his shoulder squeezes tighter, a thumb running his collar bone. "Buddy, Pete, we- we <em>won</em> against Thanos." When Peter blinks back up at him, Tony tilts his head and gives him an agonizing grin. "You pulled the gauntlet off and everything. I was so proud of you."</p><p>"R-really?" Its unbelievable, really. That idea, the idea that they <em>won,</em> that they <em>beat </em>him before the snap, before anything could be <em>destroyed</em>... When Peter clearly, clear as day remembers the look on Peter Quills face when he punched Thanos, when the titan slipped out of Mantis's hold and-</p><p>But his sense is <em>still silent.</em> And May's heartbeat beneath his cheek, Tony's fingers digging into his shoulder, it all feels <em>so real.</em></p><p>"Really." May responds for him, putting her chin on the top of Peter's head, holding him like she used to, when he would have nightmares as a kid. "You saved everyone, baby."</p><p>"You saved me." Tony finishes, and Peter shutters again, a real, genuine smile growing onto his face for the first time in... so long. So so long. His heart feels full, and his brain is starting to settle, and he feels... at ease, he feels... <em>real. </em>For the first time in forever, he feels <em>real.</em></p><p>He feels <em>safe.</em></p><p>But, then-</p><p>"His brain activity is skyrocketing," Another nurse, hiding in the corner of the room, cuts in suddenly, sounding dark, sullen, and with the way Tony swears, and May holds him closer, he knows its nothing good.</p><p>"What?" He pulls back, and glances to both adults, who are giving each other panicked looks. "Whats happening?"</p><p>Tony turns to him again, and asks him randomly, quickly, "Who was the bad guy in your story, kid?"</p><p>"Wha-" Peter's gaze flickers between his eyes, so so bewildered, overwhelmed, his sense starting to flair. "<em>Tony-"</em></p><p>"Who was he?" He pushes, pleads, sounding more afraid than Peter's ever heard him, just below the agony in his tone when he had held Peter during-</p><p>"Mysterio." He spits out, rapidly. "Quentin- Quentin Beck, I- Why? Whats going-"</p><p>And then he blinks, and they're gone.</p><p><em>Gone</em>.</p><p>Replaced by metal bars in front of him, by two lumps of warmth on either side of his body, and by the sound of cows mooing in the distance.</p><p>
  <em>What the fuck is going on?!?</em>
</p><p>He's in the Netherlands, he discovers quickly from the two men in the cell, who were huddled up to him moments ago. Broek Op Langedijk, Netherlands, he finds out moments later, when he escapes from the cell and borrows a phone off of some random guy (some random <em>nice</em> guy, they're all so <em>nice </em>here).</p><p>Well. He's "in" the Netherlands. He's not- actually here? But kind of is?</p><p>He's so <em>confused</em>. Why does this shit have to happen to <em>him?</em></p><p>While he waits for Happy to show up, he stumbles (all of the Pain from the whole "being hit by a train" thing finally decided to show up, goodie) over to a corner and takes a moment to breathe. To think. To try and wrap his head around all of this.</p><p>So.</p><p>He's apparently in a coma right now. After attacking a supervillain, who did <em>something </em>to him that nobody knows. Which doesn't sound too far fetched, to be honest, he <em>did </em>fight a giant purple alien set on destroying half the universe like, a year ago. It'd make the dreams make sense too, the voices, the- the <em>hallucinations</em> (or what he thought were hallucinations). </p><p>So all of this is some type of... dream?</p><p>Or some type of <em>illusion.</em></p><p>It smacks him in the face, so obvious and right in front of his eyes. The reason why Tony was so dead set on knowing about the "villain" in his story. Because he thinks <em>Beck</em> might be the one who put him into this state.</p><p>Because he thinks <em>Beck</em> is the one that did it.</p><p>It makes perfect sense for it to be him, too. For him to orchestrate this entire thing, this entire <em>dream</em>, to push him into a years long illusion about death and pain and agony, just to <em>punish</em> him for <em>whatever</em> he did in the real world. Probably just <em>existing</em>, knowing Peter's luck. Its just dramatic enough for Beck. And the way his senses scream whenever he's around? The way they <em>have </em>been screaming this <em>entire time?</em></p><p>It just makes sense. Quintin Beck is the one behind this.</p><p>Now, he has to find a way to <em>stop</em> it. To stop <em>him.</em></p><p>He tries the easy way out first. Squeezes his eyes shut, and tries <em>really really hard </em>to snap out of this haze, thinks of Tony and May and the room he was in, hoping to blink back into reality, the <em>real </em>reality he thinks, once more. But all that does is worsen the throbbing in his head, and make him bite back a whimper (and makes him wonder how this illusion technology works, to be honest. Everything feels so fucking <em>real,</em> the pain in his leg, the scream in his muscles, the utter exhaustion he feels...)</p><p>Guess he's doing this the hard way.</p><p>Once Happy shows up, in a giant fancy shmancy plane of all things (he doesn't know why he's surprised), ushering him inside after Peter has a quick moment of relapse and yells at him to tell him something only he would know and quickly getting embarassed once Happy does <em>just that</em> (why did he have to choose <em>that</em> story of all things?), Peter (finally) tells him his plan.</p><p>"I'm going to kick his ass."</p><p>To put it shortly, yeah. He's going to kick his ass.</p><p>To put it longly, he's going to go <em>back</em> to London, find Beck <em>again</em>, save his friends, save the city (hopefully, even if they aren't real, they still <em>feel</em> real, and he'll still feel awful if he doesn't) and finally, <em>f</em><em>inally</em> get out of this illusion. Out of this mess. Back into the real world.</p><p>Even if he doesn't remember what the real world really <em>i</em><em>s</em>, anymore.</p><p>He doesn't tell that part to Happy though. He doesn't think an illusion would like being told that he's apart of an illusion, especially since Happy would probably just tell him he's insane and get him checked out for getting his head hit too hard. Even though he <em>technically</em> didn't get hit at all. By the train anyways.</p><p>Gosh this is so confusing.</p><p>He tells himself to stop <em>thinking so much, </em>and gets to work on making himself a new suit.</p><p>Somehow this plane has a way to create a new Spider-Man suit with and out of anything he wants. Its unrealistic, but hey, this is an illusion, who says realism has gotta play a part? And he's <em>definitely</em> not complaining.</p><p>While putting in the final touches, he can almost feel Tony hovering over his shoulder, can almost feel the pride running off him in waves. Peter lets it all roll over him, accepts the comfort with opens arms while the suit gets stitched together in front of his eyes. Just as he sees the London city skies come into view, just over the horizon.</p><p>It's go time.</p><p>All dressed up in his new and improved Spider-Man suit, he jumps from the plane and into the thicker clouds, spotting the giant earth-water-fire-air monster from a mile away. '<em>Its not real, it's not real, it's not real!', </em>he tells himself over and over, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes closed as he bursts through the illusion, quickly swinging off of one of them and landing on top of one of the many, many drones.</p><p>It's kind of like inception, he thinks randomly. An illusion, inside an illusion, inside of an illusion-</p><p>He uses his taser webs to shock the drones until they all shut down and start to attack him, his brain immediately clicking into Fight mode. Jump here, dodge there, swing here, oh god I'm on fire, crash into the water, okay better now, web here, jump there-</p><p>Until he finally gets most of the drones off of his ass, until he finally, <em>finally</em> breaks through the glass walkway and grabs Beck by the neck, punching through his stupid dumbass fishbowl and then just holding him, dangling him above the hole he has just put into the floor and glaring at him.</p><p>"Your lies are over, Beck!" He spits, before getting blown back by another drone.</p><p>He really, <em>really</em> hates those drones.</p><p>"What did you even do to me?" He snarls, groans slightly as he stands back up on the other side of the walkway, clutching at his abdomin.</p><p>Beck just scoffs. Laughs. "You know." Its not said like a question, just a statement, as he tilts his head, as his blue crazed eyes gleam. "That's new."</p><p>Peter grins at him, even if he can't see it through the mask. "Yeah, bet you didn't expect that, huh?"</p><p>The other man just shrugs, and smirks back. "You really wanna know why?" He wonders, stepping behind him and eying the hero. "Why I put you under, why I made all this?" He waves at the city around them, burning, and wet, and ruined, the drones moving around him to make up for the motion. His eyes narrow as he chuckles, hysterical. "Because I <em>wanted to.</em> Oh, because I wanted a show! And what better show than messing around with Tony Stark's favorite little pet, hm?"</p><p>Peter's nose crinkle as his lip raises, almost disgusted. His stomach churning. "You're insane."</p><p>"You're only figuring this out now?" Beck places a hand to his chest with a theatrical flair, gasping loudly, eyes bulging in his act. "Guess I'm not doing my job well enough."</p><p>He's had enough of this. Enough of the plays, enough of the show, enough of the act. Time for the curtain call, the final bow.</p><p>Peter steps forward, braces himself. "Give me the glasses, Beck. Let me out."</p><p>"You want me?" He singsongs, and tilts his head upward, chin forward. Confident. Cocky. "Then come get me."</p><p>And then he's gone. <em>Everything</em> is gone. He's left into a world full of darkness, with no sense of direction, and nowhere to go.</p><p>But he knows what to do, now. Knows what to trust.</p><p>He closes his eyes.</p><p>He hears each of their voices, whispered deep in his mind,</p><p>
  <em>"Peter!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Come on, Peter!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Hey, Loser."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Pete, hey, can you hear me?"</em>
</p><p>And breathes.</p><p>Come on, Peter Tingle.</p><p>Come on, Spidey Sense.</p><p>
  <em>Come on, Spider-Man!</em>
</p><p>The hairs on the back of his neck flairs, and he jumps.</p><p>Crushes one drone, kicks another, destroying them over and over and over, in a way a little more dramatic than needed, a little overboard, but if Beck wants a show? <em>He's gonna get one.</em></p><p>He punches and elbows, roundhouse kicks his way to the other side of the walkway, dodging bullets and skipping over blasts along the way, until he breaks what he thinks is the last one, close by anyways, and spots Beck on the ground a few feet away.</p><p>"Beck!" He calls, stumbling over until he's stood above him, panting, glaring, spitting. "You lied to me. About <em>everything!</em> I trusted you!"</p><p>"I know." The villain grits, his voice shaky and fragile as he smiles a pitiful, bloodied smile, wheezing. "And thats the most disappointing part-"</p><p>Peter's senses scream, and he grabs the gun beside his head just as it goes off, smashing the window behind him. He slowly turns his head over to Beck, the <em>real </em>one, stood beside him with blood dripping down the side of his head, down his temple.</p><p>"You can't trick me anymore." Peter lifts his head, looks at him straight on, shoulders square and chest up. "<em>I win.</em>"</p><p>Beck just gives him a weird sick smirk. Pleased. <em>Satisfied. </em>And drops the gun.</p><p>Before the metal can clang onto the ground, Peter's back in the hospital room, blinking up at May and Tony stood hovering over his body, their terrified faces falling into pure, overwhelming relief. At Ned and Mj, stood just beside them, staring at each other with wide grins and teary eyes. At the doctors surrounding them, looking ecstatic.</p><p>His sense is quiet.</p><p>The world is <em>real.</em></p><p>And everything clicks into place.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Should I make a sequel with the recovery? 👀👀</p><p>Come say hi to me on tumblr! @shadedrose01 :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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